A Paid Lover?

Do I praise only when the sun's not under cover?
Do alleluias come only when the waves of blessing roll?
Oh God, am I just a well paid lover
Or do I love you from the depth of my soul?

The skies often grow black and life is so cold.
No beams of love I perceive.
Does then my Christian testimony remain bold
Or do I, alone, in bitter silence grieve?

The tender words of a well paid lover,
Is this what the Master truly desires?
No, not ones who around the paymaster hover,
But those whose hearts are raging fires!

Old Job, your love was certainly tried,
Your soul sifted and doom your only cover.
From the Bible's pages, God hast cried,
"You're not well paid, but truly my lover!"

Yes, God poured out gifts from above
And gave you more than you had at the start.
These were not wages. They were tokens of love
To the one who always loved God from his heart.

In my testings and trials that often abound,
When there is no sense of peace from above,
O, then in such a state let my heart be found
That when Satan screams, "Paid, Paid!", I whisper, "Love."